


An Alternative Use for Soul Gems

by VideoDame



Series: Signe's Shortstories [9]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Improper use of soul gems, Masturbation, Signe's a ho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VideoDame/pseuds/VideoDame
Summary: After countless attempts at getting rid of pent up energy, Signe realizes her restlessness might be because she's craving a certain something. A certain someone.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Teldryn Sero
Series: Signe's Shortstories [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1008630
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66





	An Alternative Use for Soul Gems

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, rushed one-shot of my Dragonborn using a soul gem to get off that I thought of out of the blue. But who knows, maybe I could make a follow up if folks want? 🤔

Pacing up and down the halls of Lakeview manor, Signe ran her fingers through her unruly golden hair with a frustrated groan. No matter what she did, no matter how strenuous the task, the Nord woman still felt insanely restless. Jogging laps around the manor didn’t help, hunting elk and wolves and tanning them didn’t help, combat practice with a straw dummy didn’t help, _nothing._ Everything she did to expel this seemingly pent up energy just wasn’t working.

Perhaps she was just so used to always having tasks to do; between running errands for lazy Jarls and slaying a literal god, one could say she always had a constant supply of adrenaline to keep her going. A natural born warrior and adventurer like her wasn’t used to this… this _nothing_ \- these long stretches of time where she didn’t have a pressing matter to distract her. With nothing on her mind, it was easy to fall into a state of anxiety, especially when you live in a place like Skyrim. Here, you can’t walk five feet from your front door without spotting some form of crime or disaster.

Maybe it was the fact her soul is made from that of a dragon, plus some, since she pretty much absorbs their souls after slaying the beasts. Multiple dragon souls all clunking around and fighting for space in a tiny, mortal body can really ware you out. An easy way to ease that kind of tension is to go around and using her _Thu’um_ on everything she can; but unfortunately, she’d rather not disturb the residents of Falkreath by _fus ro dah_ -ing a herd of deer out of the woods and into their streets. Even if it would be hilarious. Especially if a funeral is in progress. Not the kind of event you’d want to witness while mourning the loss of a loved one- Falkreath already has enough problems, and a bunch of ragdoll-ing deer flying in out of nowhere right after a sonic wave of force would be unappreciated. But again, hysterical.

The imagery of a deer carcass flopping over gravestones while horrified onlookers gasped brought a bubble of laughter from Signe’s chest. The idea was enough to bring her back to reality, taking in her surroundings to see where her constant pacing brought her, the Nord’s teal eyes landing on the doors to her enchanting wing.

That’s it! Maybe dispelling her energy into enchanting would help, seeing as she’s not keen on casting spells. The Dragonborn was more at ease with a bow-n-arrow, or dual wielding a pair of daggers or short swords. By the Nine, the amount of times she kept her distance whenever Teldryn started tossing flame spells at the most unnecessary times… That Dunmer really needs to work on not going overboard with a simple bear or ash-hopper.

Teldryn… A small sigh escaped Signe’s lips as she entered the enchantment room, opening a chest filled with enchanted items and weapons she could destroy for their power.

After not only defeating Harkon, but finally destroying Alduin as well, the two were both physically and – in Signe’s case – emotionally exhausted. The Nord suggested they both return to their respectful homes to unwind and relax, a vacation of sorts, before she’d return for him so they could look into that cult thing on Solstheim. The mercenary had agreed, and refused payment, but there was no way she’d let him leave without it.

_’It’s not a vacation if you’re worrying over wages,’_ She’d told him then, holding up a coin pouch filled to the brim with just a fraction of what they looted in the past, and Teldryn knew he wasn’t winning this argument. Signe had just the right amount of wealth to keep herself alive and healthy, and if she were ever in a rut, her past in the Thieves Guild always came in handy. That meant she either sought help from her fellow Guild, or just stole things, who knows.

Regardless, she missed that elf. They’d spent the majority of her journey together; the two of them might as well have been handcuffed together by fate, because where there was one, the other was most definitely within a few feet. _At least._ They both grew on each other, their sense of humor basically equal on all levels. Bonding over similarities would do that to you. It’s to the point the two could share a half-glance and already be thinking the same thought, in the same tone, with the same cadence. Teldryn was her second half, a part of her very soul, someone she knew it’d be impossible to live without them; even though he was well older than her, and might even still outlive her when her end comes. Damn the lifespans of Men and Mer.

During her reminiscing of her partner in both crime and justice, the Nord woman’s eyes had drifted from the enchantment table to the shelves directly next to it, covered top to bottom in bowls and kettles filled to the very brim with soul gems of all sizes. Just one look into the enchantment tower and anyone who hasn’t even met Signe could tell you the one item she chooses to horde. The tales about dragons hording treasure weren’t entirely false, after all – they simply choose to horde one or two specific things. For the dragons of Skyrim, it’s knowledge, proven by the Word Walls they guard. For Signe, the blood and soul of a dragon? Soul gems.

Immediately, an amused grin stretches over her face, a memory of her favorite Dunmer learning the more… _lewd_ side of her coming to mind.

_”Do you think anyone has ever gotten off on these?” Teldryn asked curiously somewhere behind her, studying a common soul gem he plucked from a shelf in the tomb they had just cleared out. Signe raises a brow at him, a sly smirk on her face as she kicks aside the corpse of a Draugr to get at the lock of a chest it was laying on._

_“Oh, absolutely. It’s super common with women,” she answers, her tone seemingly teasing, but she was by no means joking. Her attention is turned to the chest’s lock, taking out her lock-picking equipment. “They’re the perfect size, can easily be smoothed out if the edges are too sharp, and completely subtle. No one will ever know its true use if they found it in your bag,” a small ‘snap’ sound followed by a mumbled Norse curse followed, before the Dragonborn continued. “Not to mention they’re super pretty.”_

_Beneath his helm, Teldryn made a face, dropping the gem into a knapsack as if it were contaminated. “It was a joke, and I was hoping you’d deny it as a rumor. I was not expecting such an… in-depth answer,” he drawled, returning his attention to searching up higher on the shelves._

_“Aw, you mean you didn’t intentionally ask that just to see how embarrassed I’d get, and then determine if I’m guilty of such an act based on how much I deny it?” Signe turns to look at him, the chest now yanked open, her words drenched in sarcasm. She saw that age-old tactic used back at Honorhall far too many times to be so easily fooled. “Teldryn,_ sæti * _, you of all people should know how open I am. If you wanna know about my masturbation habits, all you need to do is ask,” she teases him with a wicked grin._

_Though his face was covered, Signe could absolutely feel the intense, flustered glare he shot at her as his head snapped toward her._

_“Wha- why would I ever need to know?” He choked, his voice wavering slightly from shock._

_The Nord woman simply gives him a shrug, idly looking through the chests’ contents. “I don’t know, maybe cause you’re really just a horny old man looking to score some Dragonborn pussy?” She snorts, unable to keep her bored tone up through the sentence, knowing her companion had to be absolutely red in the face at this point._

_“By Azura- forget I asked anything!” He barked, but his words held no sting. This was their usual antics, after all, and they both knew there was no harm in any of it._

_The two continued their looting in silence for a few more minutes, the only words shared were when they wanted a second opinion on an items’ relative worth. Living with the Thieves Guild for over a decade comes in handy. However, the silence never lasts long, as Signe was never one to just let sleeping dogs lie._

_“…. You know, if you concentrate hard enough, you can feel the energy pulses of the soul gem when it’s in y-“_

_“SIGNE!”_

Ah, that was a good day. It was the moment they both knew they could be as open with each other as the other would allow; which in Signe’s case, was as much as the Dunmer wanted. Open minds, open arms, open homes, _open legs_ -

“Fuck,” Signe groaned, head lowered as her hands run through her hair, careful not to yank on the braids on each side. That was it, that’s what was making her so damn restless; the Dragonborn hadn’t had the time or privacy to lay with anyone or even touch herself to relieve the stress. In fact, she hadn’t had sex since she last stayed in the Guild’s Cistern, which was… what, three or four months ago? Longer? Time became a blur when you avoided sleep and completed task after task. With a determined huff of breath, the Nord searches through her piles of soul gems till she finds one that was the most comfortable and phallic looking. Once she found her prize, the Nord made a beeline for her bedroom on the other end of the house.

She made quick work of dusting it off and making sure it was clean enough, with no hidden ridges or anything of the sort. When the gem passed her little exam, it was tossed to the bed to allow Signe to use both her hands, near frantic in her desperation to get the suddenly stuffy light steel armor off her. The moment she realized she hadn’t masturbated in who-knows-how-long; it was as if a switch went off in her, a deep heartbeat-like throbbing resonating within her sex. Her body falling almost limply onto the thin blankets atop the bed, mind unable to focus on any kind of elegance, just the raw need for the release she didn’t know she craved till now.

One hand quickly fumbled for the gem off to the side of her somewhere, but once she grabs it, she stops herself, the feeling of her other hand running along her torso making her slow the touches down and savor it. Now, she hadn’t planned on going slow at all, but the touch of her hand against such a vulnerable and sensitive area made her realize something… By the Nine, she was insanely touch starved – so much so that her own hand on her breasts and stomach made her shiver and her back arch. No one had touched her like this since the time she offered to help Aicanter with losing his virginity in exchange for his silence when she copied the Falmer translation guide back in her Nightingale days. Or was it when she banged Ondolemar at the Thalmor party so she could ‘borrow’ some hooded robes when he was asleep and sneak down to get the information she needed for Delphine, but also because she really wanted to fuck that Altmer? Either way, all the other times she laid with anyone after that were just rushed quickies. It had been too long since she felt a more loving, caring touch.

The very moment she closed her eyes and let her hands roam her body freely, her mind began to wander and imagine they were someone else. Many faces of multiple people she met on her journey flashed past her eyes, but there was always one specific voice, one specific Mer, who came to mind.

_"You have such a handsome face, you know that, right?” Signe had asked Teldryn one day, as the two of them were bathing in a hot spring near the Rift. “Yet you always hide behind a helm, even when we’re not in combat.”_

_They were comfortable being nude around each other, because they were both mature enough to understand when things were and weren’t sexual. Signe never cared if anyone, strangers or not, saw her bare chest – though being completely nude around strangers made her feel too vulnerable. But Teldryn was no stranger, and she trusted him well, just as he trusted her._

_The Dunmer himself had his back to her, using the warm waters to wash the dirt and sweat from his shoulders and neck._

_“I’d rather not have a connection between my work and my face,” he responded immediately, meaning that he’s answered this plenty of times before. “While I may be a mercenary, I still have a heart. I’d hate to be feared by others when I’m just simply walking through a market.”_

_Ah, that made sense. The Dragonborn could understand why someone like Teldryn wouldn’t want others to associate his face with murder and crime… Signe could relate to that a lot, being a Nightingale. Turning to the other, she made her way over, placing a kind hand between his shoulder blades, chuckling when she felt him jump slightly in surprise._

_“I can understand that,” she agrees softly, gently rubbing water onto his back. “Now wash your back more, I can still feel the oils from your sweat here,” the Nord teases, changing the subject since she knew the other didn’t like to dwell on such sorrowful topics for long, and neither did Signe._

While the memory wasn’t inherently sexual, she couldn’t stop thinking about the toned muscles Teldryn has, and how nice they felt beneath her touch. She’d love to scratch and mark those broad shoulders of his, run her fingers through his soft mohawk and the peach fuzz on each side, and suck bruises onto the open expanse of neck. A low coo of appreciation leaves her when she imagines that rough voice of his moaning in her ear, telling her attractive she is and how badly he’s wanted her; how every time they bathed in the waters together, it took all his strength not to run his hands along her slicked skin…

The thought of his tough and calloused hands feeling her up brought a soft moan from Signe’s throat, one of her hands running down her stomach till her fingertips lightly grazed her sensitive clit, immediately turning her moan to a gasp. Hips jerked and twitched as that raw desire filled her again, her fingers abandoning the slow tempo, instead desperately rubbing and dipping into her already dripping wet core. Perhaps Teldryn would become so suddenly desperate too? The moment his hands come in contact with her womanhood, would his resolve and suaveness crumble at the realization of getting to bed her? Just imagining the situation made her arousal spark to new heights.

By the time she came back to reality, she had noticed she had three fingers deep in her cunt, urgently seeking out her orgasm. Reluctantly, Signe slides her soaking fingers out and grabs the soul gem off to the side, slicking it up with the slick from herself. Unable to wait any further, the Nord woman lined the smooth head of the gem to her quim before slowly plunging it within. The slow stretch barely hurt after such a frantic fingering, far too wet and aroused to feel too much discomfort, a delightful wave of heat being sent up her spine that made her toes curl. With a shaky and pleased sigh, no time was wasted as she began to move her wrist.

Like she had told Teldryn before in that tomb, you could feel the soul within the gem if you concentrated hard enough; and feel the soul she did. It was a deep pulsating feeling, a dull thrum of magic, enhanced by her own powerful soul flowing through her body. It added a drumming feeling to her frantic thrusting, bring the Dragonborn closer and closer to her climax by the moment.

Sorry, unfortunate soul trapped in the gem – didn’t mean to turn your afterlife into a means to find an orgasm. But who knows, maybe they’re having just as much fun in the Soul Cairn?

With each deep thrust of the gem into her quim, a gasp was drawn from Signe’s lips, her hips bucking upward to try and take in more, more, _more_. Now that her desired releases was so tantalizingly close, it was beginning to drive her mad with desperation. Sweat clung to her forehead and the base of her neck, breathing labored as the tight feeling within her core growing closer and closer to snapping, all she needed was just a little push.

That push came in the form of fingers rubbing against her clit, determined to bring her to the peak of her pleasure. Within moments, her toes curled, and her golden hair became splayed out over the pillows as her head was thrown back, releasing a cry that only someone who had been denied such bliss for so long could make.

When the spasms of her walls slowed, and her breathing evened out once more, Signe slid the gem out of her and simply laid there, exhausted yet pleased. The Nord didn’t even care how exposed she felt as she laid naked on the bed, her room lacking any doors; if anyone were to enter her home to seek her out, they’d find the Dragonborn seemingly ravished atop of her bed. Honestly, with the arousal still thrumming in her veins, she wouldn’t entirely mind come non-hostile company.

Company…

Now with a clear mind, Signe took the time to just relax against her bed, but a clear mind unfortunately allowed her to reflect on the…loneliness she realized she felt. Not just because she had no one to lay with, but because she had no one to simply _talk_ to on this vacation of hers. No one around here could match the personality the Dragonborn so openly carried; no one like Teldryn. Even though they agreed to take time to themselves, Signe missed her companion too much even obey her own suggestion.

Without a second thought, the Nord woman hoisted herself out of bed, ignoring her opposing limbs, and hurriedly cleaned herself and the gem up – her mind was made up, and she was heading for Solstheim.

With the gem clean and returned to its original spot, and after a well-needed bath, Signe was redressed in her armor and gear. One last check to be sure she had everything she needed, and the Dragonborn was out the door in moments. But before she could even approach her horse in its stable, a moving figure at the end of the dirt path caught her eye, and her mouth fell slightly agape when she recognized that masked figure.

“Teldryn!” Signe called loudly, a fraction of a decibel away from using her _Thu’um_ , body moving on its own free will to quickly rush down the path towards her Dunmeri friend. Before the elf could utter a word, the dragon-slayer had practically thrown herself into his opening arms, making him huff in surprise while his feet stumbled back from such force.

“Ack- careful, I’m sore from walking all the way from Windhelm,” his rough, yet comforting voice spoke next to her, making Signe tighten her grip to hold him closer. Strong arms encased her back, and she let herself take in the scent of smoke and ash and stale sujamma. It made her feel more at home than the mansion she crafted herself did.

Neither broke the hug, even when a minute had passed, both silently reveling in the feeling of having their best friend back again. With a deep breath, Signe was the first to break the quiet moment.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, voice muffled in the scarf that encased his neck and lower portion of his face. “Not that I mind. I was actually just about to travel to Solstheim to see you.”

That made Teldryn chuckle, slowly – reluctantly – pulling away from the hug so he could remove his helm. Gods, his eyes were still as striking as ever…

“I’m not going to lie, because I know you’d see right through me, as you always do,” he gives her a grin, to which she returned. “I missed you, a lot. No matter how many people come and go at the Netch, or how loud and busy it gets after work hours, or how full of merriment it becomes when everyone hits that point of drunkenness… Nothing seems to compare to the delight and entertainment I feel on our travels together. Not even chatting with an old friend like Geldis,” the Dunmer admits, eyes falling to the helm in his hands as he awkwardly twirls it.

Signe felt a warm, hopeful spark of joy within her chest at his words. Teldryn had missed her too. “You missed me? Me, with my dumb jokes and stupidly dangerous ideas?” She teased lightly, though her words were tinged in underlying self-consciousness.

“ _Especially_ your dumb jokes and stupid plans,” Teldryn lets out a wheezy laugh. “I’d rather watch you aerial strike a sleeping dragon with a bow-n-arrow while jumping off a thirty foot drop than have to listen to Mogrul boast about himself and threaten me in the same sentence.”

Immediately she was upon him again, arms wrapped tightly around his torso and face pressed against the chitin armor on his chest. “Good, cause they’re not stopping anytime soon, no matter how much you complain.”

“I pray they never do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sæti - [Old Norse / Icelandic] Masculine term of endearment meaning "Sweetie / cutie"


End file.
